


An Explosion of Feelings

by Ayay



Category: Naruto
Genre: Depression, Feelings, M/M, Porn, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, honestly genma probably deserves better, kakashi's a loser, trauma ninjas are traumatized
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-19 21:41:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10648611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ayay/pseuds/Ayay
Summary: Working title: Kakashi is fucked, both metaphorically and literally. A tribute to @blackkat's truly delightful 'Our Hearts are Dynamite' Probably go read that instead.





	An Explosion of Feelings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blackkat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackkat/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Our Hearts Are Dynamite](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7631716) by [blackkat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackkat/pseuds/blackkat). 



An Explosion of Feelings (or, Hatake Kakashi is fucked, both metaphorically and literally.)

  
Edit: July 21, 2017.

* * *

 

Kakashi’s life has been pretty boring since Minato died. Apart from a few colossally stupid decisions (killing Obito, killing Rin, joining Root, letting down Uchiha Itachi, betraying the Sandaime...) he is mostly content to let life guide him where it will. With Rin’s death, he begins to intentionally seal himself off from other people, but it's a process that has been a long time in the making.

He hears the whispers in ANBU: _Friend-killer; traitor's son;_   _that Kakashi is one ice cold bastard; merciless bordering on cruel._ _Something wrong with him, to live through all that and still smile like he does._ Well, it’s not hard to hear; ANBU gossip worse than housewives. The once-intentional aloofness calcifies around him like a mask, becomes second nature. When people are already saying the worst about you, it’s hard not to believe them. Kakashi keeps his mask up and his hitai-ate down, cultivates a poker face that only adds to the rumors.

  
When the Third releases him from ANBU—forces him out, more like—he suddenly has a lot of free time and little inclination to spend it socializing with the living. Maito Gai seeks him out irregularly, calling out new and ridiculous challenges and chasing him down until he accepts them. It’s one of the high points of Kakashi's week, although he isn’t going to admit to that under any kind of torture.

Kakashi spends a lot of time talking to Obito, Rin, and Minato. Probably more than he ever talked to them when they were alive. Well, his life is full of little ironies like that.

“Minato-sensei, did you ever imagine how troublesome the bell test would be?” He wonders out loud one day. The sun’s rays slant across the monument. Dust motes in the light are his only answer. “Judging by how many teams I’ve failed, you’d think it’s impossible. But I figured it out when you gave us the test, huh? Can’t be so hard.”

He laughs a little out loud, inviting humor at his expense. “Obito, maybe I’ve finally found something I’m bad at. You’d like that, right? Teaching just isn’t in my temperament, maybe.”

“Rin…” But it’s still too hard to talk to Rin, all these years later. Mangekyo shows him the image in crystal clarity, and the sense-memory is almost as strong as the sight in his mind. She had clenched her jaw against the pain, trying even at the end to be kind, concerned for his feelings. She had put on a brave face for him, eyes shining and her mouth tipping up into a smile even as blood dripped down her chin and _his hand was through her heart_ , Chidori still sparking. The smell of burnt meat and blood had filled the air, iron tang heavy in the back of his throat and the crisp ozone-scent of lightning bleaching across his senses.

He didn’t eat breakfast this morning, but his stomach roils at the memory anyways.

The guilt’s almost a physical weight on his shoulders, and he heaves a sigh. It’s difficult to draw breath.

“Rin…I’m sorry.” He breathes through the ache in his chest, closes his eyes and counts methodically until the rushing in his brain recedes.

He tips his head back to look up at the trees. “I’m so sorry.” He repeats, and this time the apology is for everyone. For failing Obito as a friend, for distancing himself from everyone around him, unable to participate in the world that he fights so hard to protect. For being a hollow shell of a shinobi. He apologizes to Minato-sensei for wasting his potential. For losing his Will of Fire.

Kakashi has learned the lesson about teamwork that Minato tried so hard to instill in him. What other lessons did Minato try to teach him? How many has he failed to remember?

Too little, too late.

“Got another group of students graduating the Academy today.” He says after a long silence. Getting around to the point of today’s visit about seven hours late. The trees don’t judge him, and Obito's dead, so he can't judge, either.

The air has that springtime freshness in it, but standing in the middle of the glade, Kakashi feels like he’s being smothered. He takes a deep breath. Another. Another. Glances to the side.

“I requested your son, Minato-sensei. And Itachi’s little brother.” He huffs out a breath, a little nervy. There’s no response. Kakashi can imagine the looks on his former team’s faces, the worry, or the anger, or the gleeful amusement. What wouldn’t he give to have them back again. To talk to them again.

The shadows shift slowly across the clearing, and the leaves rustle above him. Time passes by. He maintains his slouch in front of the monument until his extremities are chilled, his body protesting the hours of motionlessness.

“Well.” He says, loud in the silence. He shakes himself briskly, like a dog, and straightens up. “We'll see what happens. Later, sensei. Obito. Rin.”

Kakashi looks around the clearing one more time. He watches the fading sunlight dapple across the memorial, listens to the sounds of the village in the distance. He breathes in the cooling air of dusk. A moment later, he’s gone in a blur of leaves.

**

It’s important to appreciate the little joys in life.

The chuunin he’s meeting scrunches his face in impotent fury. “Kakashi-san…you’re late.”

“Oh? Sorry, I saw a pod of dolphins. Stranded. Had to rescue them.” Kakashi smiles wide, innocent and well-meaning. He casts an eye sideways at the sunset just visible through the window.

The chuunin flushes slowly but steadily. Ah. It’s Umino Iruka. That’s why he’d thought of dolphins. The scar on Umino’s face is distinctive, even in a village filled with shinobi. He’s a favorite of the Sandaime, Kakashi’s mind supplies automatically.

“We’re nowhere near the ocean.” Umino bites out his words carefully, almost shaking with fury.

“Oh, you’re right. They must have been river dolphins then! Aren’t they endangered? It’s so great I was able to save them, then.” Kakashi says happily.

“You were supposed to pick up the group assignments at noon.” Umino grits out. “I’ve been waiting all day.”

Kakashi interestedly watches the red flush creep past up past the scar. He shrugs, raising his hands in a hopeless, ‘what can you do’ gesture. “Sorry, Umino-sensei!” He chirps. Seven hours late isn’t so bad.

For someone who hasn’t been out in the field for a while, this chuunin teacher’s actually got a pretty good killer intent.

Umino shoves the folder with the student profiles at Kakashi, who has to bobble the papers a little to catch them. As he flips the folder open, he hears Umino hesitate.

“Naruto didn’t pass the exams, Hatake-san.” Umino says as Kakashi starts skimming through the scant profiles. The man's incandescent anger from earlier is abruptly gone, and Kakashi finds himself wishing for it instead of this awkwardness. “I know you especially requested him.”

Uchiha Sasuke. Haruno Sakura. “Isn’t this the second year he’s failed?” Kakashi asks, not looking up.

He hears Umino shift and tense. Guilt? Or embarassment? When he speaks again Umino's voice is caught between indignation and defensiveness. The man manages to school his tone back to professional neutrality after a few words. “Yes. He’s trying hard, but he doesn’t seem to be a good fit for the Academy.”

Impossible. The son of the Yondaime and Uzumaki Kushina was born a shinobi, in blood and chaos and death. No child with that heritage could be anything but brilliant and lethal. Without even counting the latent capabilities of a jinchuuriki sealed in his belly.

His grades are pretty bad, though.

“I’ve…offered to let him take the practical test again this evening.” Umino admits, frustration evident on his open face. Interesting. That’s not quite regulation.

“If he passes, he’ll join your team.” He states, and shifts his stance for...an argument? A denial? It’s hard to ignore the hopelessness warring with tired optimism in his face.

“Okay.” Kakashi says blandly. He looks up from the papers as Umino fidgets. There isn’t any information in the files that he doesn’t know already. He should leave, but Umino still looks torn between frustration and sadness. Kakashi waits.

Just as the silence is starting to become oppressive, Kakashi offers politely, “I look forward to meeting them." He isn’t sure what makes him add, “All three of them.”

Iruka looks him in the eye for the first time in their entire conversation, startled. Kakashi smiles, a gentle crinkle of his one visible eye, and waves the folder a little playfully. “Guess I’d better prepare for my new students, eh, sensei?” He says, a little teasing to break the serious mood.

Iruka’s opening his mouth to what. Thank him? Yikes. He seems like a good man but Kakashi’s in no mood to be thanked for barely doing his job. He’s spent eight years letting Minato and Kushina down over and over again, ignoring their orphan son. He has no right to be thanked for finally taking the opportunity to care for their child.

Kakashi waves the folder in a quick farewell and shunshins out of the room. Before he fully disappears, he takes a moment to appreciate when the gratefulness on Umino Iruka’s face turns rapidly to annoyance.

What an interesting man. A good man, to instill Konoha’s Will of Fire in its future shinobi.

Kakashi’s not really thinking about Iruka as he flashes between rooftops, though. He can't stop helplessly recalling another team: one child prodigy, one hardworking kunoichi, one dead last. How can you avoid the mistakes of the past if you can’t even stop reliving them in your mind?

And then, Itachi. Too young, with the weight of the world on his shoulders. Caught between a bad decision and a worse choice. A killer and a traitor and just a boy, for all that. An ANBU captain was supposed to be responsible for his team.

Too little, too late.

Kakashi can feel the oncoming pressure of memories catching up, old regrets that still fester. He presses them down resolutely, ignores the building headache and the clench in his chest.

Shinobi are deadly killers. They’re brilliant spies. Traditionally, they're also great at repressing emotions and running from their feelings.

It’s after nine pm, and the population of Konoha is settling into the rhythms of night time. Customers are trickling out of restaurants, and the lights of bars are flickering on.

  
Kakashi pauses on the edge of one rooftop. There are too many thoughts in his head, but even he’s willing to admit that he’s probably hit his quota for self-flagellation today.

Going back to his apartment is quite out of the question. Solitude and guilt make for terrible bed mates.

With that decided, Kakashi makes the folder with Team Seven’s information disappear into a pocket in his vest and hops down to the street.

Drowning your sorrows is also a time-honored shinobi tradition.

**

Kakashi slips into the main journin bar with easy grace, pausing only a moment in the shadows by the door to glance around. He waves a hand at the barkeep—ex-ANBU with a wicked sense of humor and a deadly uppercut—and marks the other occupants of the room. He’s out of the village often enough that he doesn’t bother to keep track of anyone under tokubetsu journin. This bar, unnamed as it is, is notorious enough that only especially foolhardy or cocky chuunin ever enter it, so Kakashi has a passing familiarity with everyone in the room.

Kurenai, Asuma and Gai are seated at a table near the bar, loudly discussing the new genin. Gai is waving his hands in exuberant, expansive gestures—Kakashi catches a couple of phrases: Power of Youth, Springtime of Childhood, and Dream of Konoha. He hurriedly looks elsewhere before the other new journin teachers can catch his eye and invite him to participate in their celebration or commiseration.

  
Kakashi’s already had to hear a hell of a lot about Gai’s brats over the past year. Mini-Gai still freaks him out. Where did he come from? Did Gai grow him from a pod? Is the Maito family somehow contagious? Kakashi has a passing image of Gai’s solemn Hyuuga in a green jumpsuit that makes his brain momentarily blank.

Definitely no.

There are a couple of tokubetsu at the bar chatting with Ayako, the barkeep. Aoba’s sitting at an angle that hides his friend, but the other shinobi making Ayako cackle is too small to be Namiashi Raido, so it must be his twin shadow, Shiranui. Kakashi heads for the seat next to him, neatly ignoring Asuma’s greeting and sidestepping Gai’s attempted bear hug. “Kakashi, my rival!” Gai bellows. “Are you here to celebrate with us the Springtime Rejuvenation of Ninja-hood? Let us toast together! To the Infinite Glory of Youthful Potential!"

Which. What? Even Asuma, red-faced and chuckling as he obediently toasts, looks a little pained. Kurenai hides a badly concealed snort in her beer. Gai can’t hold his liquor for shit but that’s pretty bad even for him. Kakashi hums a noncommittal denial as he slides onto the barstool next to Genma. He doesn't know him very well, but Kakashi quite likes what he knows. Calm and unflappable, easy in his own skin and not overly talkative.

He takes a moment to pull in his emotions a little tighter—he’s here to drown his sorrows, not ruin anyone else’s night with bad vibes. Even so, he’s not quite successful. He catches the faintest wince from Genma as the other man’s senbon dips down.

“Rough day, Kakashi?” Aoba asks perceptively, and in a gesture of truly magnanimous kindness, slides his cup across to Kakashi.

“So it goes.” Kakashi murmurs vaguely, and gives Aoba a wry head tilt in thanks. He downs the drink through his mask before recognizing the scent of it.

Fuck. Oh, God. Crazy fucking bastard. He should have been more skeptical that Aoba would willingly give a drink up. It’s the harshest stuff that Ayako offers, closer to paint thinner than alcohol and with an aftertaste like burning gasoline. Kakashi manages not to choke, but only barely.

Aoba throws his head back, giggling hysterically. Genma reaches over with great sympathy and pats Kakashi on the back. “Would have warned you if you had given me a second. He pissed off Ayako-san earlier and she’s only letting him drink the kage-killer stuff tonight.”

Kakashi gives in to the burning in his throat and coughs. He manages to croak hoarsely, “Motherfucker.”

Aoba beams a sunny smile from behind his ever-present glasses and swipes Genma’s drink. It is, in comparison, Kakashi notes in passing, a rather mellow sweet potato shochu. Genma clicks his teeth, annoyed, but allowes the theft.

“Motherfucker.” Kakashi repeats again, with dark intent. He’s only half joking—his head’s already swimming. But Aoba is unfortunately expert at waving off unspoken death threats, and looks entirely unrepentant. He’s got a shit-eating grin on his face, cocks his head in an unmistakable gesture. _You gonna do anything about it?_

Ayako neatly picks that moment to set a consoling cup down in front of Kakashi, distracting him for a moment. It’s one of her better sakes that she imports from Lightning Country. He contemplates it, weighing the moment.

Ayako rules the bar like a benign tyrant, and has a sixth sense for averting potential conflicts before they break out. The sake is sympathetic, but also a warning not to make trouble. Kakashi holds up two hands in a placating gesture. He’s not here to pick fights, even if he is in an awful mood. Some of the other journin can get a little trigger happy when they’re tipsy, but Kakashi’s never been that kind of person. His reputation usually speaks for itself, too—even the more aggressive journin hesitate before picking a fight with him. Aoba’s fucking crazy, but he’s a good judge of character. Another night, Kakashi might tease his mock-upset over the drink out a little longer, just to fuck with Aoba and annoy Ayako. But tonight, he just wants to focus on forgetting.

Kakashi’s hard to truly rile, these days. No one has ever managed to get under his skin as easily as Obito did, and after Obito…well, he just doesn’t have the energy to put into personal vendettas or temper flare-ups. Not that that’s ever been his style.

Cold, they call him. Konoha’s perfect killer. Taking offense at Aoba’s prank would be troublesome as well as uncharacteristically petty. Especially when the tokubetsu has actually helped him out—getting him properly started on the way to mindlessness quicker than he would have on his own. And getting him a sympathy cup of sake, because Aoba is such an asshole and Ayako has always had a soft spot for him.

But God, he can barely smell the sake through the remnants of alcohol on his mask. It’s truly potent stuff, overwhelming. Perhaps it really is paint thinner. He has got to get the taste of it out of his mouth. Ayako probably brews it in the toilet.

So Kakashi accepts the peace offering happily, although he points two half-hearted fingers at Aoba in the universal sign for ‘I’m watching you, asshole. We’ll deal with this later.’ Kakashi’s easy-going, but he’s not a sap. He does still have a reputation to maintain, after all.

Kakashi tugs his face mask down before picking up the cup and taking a sip. He lets it slide over his tongue, rolling it around to coat the inside of his mouth with its flavor. It would be a shame to filter the taste of twenty-year Lightning Country sake through the 90 proof stuff still drenching his mask. He isn’t an animal.

Ayako has seen Kakashi unmasked often enough that she doesn’t even blink, but he senses Genma still abruptly and then carefully relax again next to him. Aoba is gaping, totally unashamed and gleefully delighted. Kakashi lets his lips quirk up in a little smile, daring comment. “It’s soaked with your kage-killer shit, fuckbrain.” He says mildly, gesturing to the mask around his neck. Aoba has the grace to look a little apologetic. Just a little.

Ayako sets down another glass in front of Aoba with a meaningful look. It’s filled to the brim. Kakashi catches a whiff and winces, feeling his nostrils sting again just from the passing smell. God, Genma had been serious. His idiot friend must have said something especially egregious—Ayako isn’t in the habit of usually holding grudges.

Aoba pulls a face as he looks into the glass, then looks over at Kakashi. With a shit-eating grin, Aoba hopefully holds the kage-killer out to Kakashi.

Kakashi stares at him, flat-eyed. _Fool me once_ …

The combination of an empty stomach and the first drink are already taking effect. But. What the hell.

When Aoba jiggles the glass teasingly, Kakashi reaches out a lazy hand and plucks it out of his grasp. Aoba’s fingers clench around the glass for an instant in shock before he lets it go, disbelieving.

Just to be obnoxious, Kakashi finishes it off in one go and sets the glass down with a flourish, trying not to breathe in and taste what he just willingly drank. He slows his movements so as to seem unaffected by the—oh, god, truly revolting, sinus-burning, headache-inducing—drink and chases the harsh taste by draining the rest of his excellent Lightning sake.

Aoba whoops delightedly.

Kakashi closes his eyes and feels the world tilt, a little. There’s a dull throb behind his forehead. A gentle fuzziness drifts around the edges of his mind, and his senses, usually extra-perceptive and on constant alert, are already beginning to dull.

“Careful, boyo.” Ayako says blandly, watching him as she wipes down the counter. “I’ve known you since you were too short to see over this bar and I’m not afraid to cut you off if you’re going to be stupid."

Kakashi opens his eyes to peer at her, affronted, and attempts a look of delicately injured dignity. Ayako narrows her eyes at him.

Beside him, Genma chuckles and bumps his shoulder. “It’s okay, Ayako-san. Aoba and I will make sure we get Kakashi-kun back home in one piece tonight.”

Kakashi raises an eyebrow at the ‘- _kun_ ’, but accepts the tacit apology. “See, Ayako?” He pouts. It’s generally not an effective look when he’s wearing a mask, so it’s a slightly underused expression. He takes the opportunity to play it up, sticking out his lower lip ridiculously.

Genma chokes. Ayako is unmoved and unamused.

“I’m always a responsible drinker.” Kakashi protests, with maybe too-sincere innocence. He ignores the little laugh next to him with haughty dignity.

Ayako kindly does not bring up the thing from that one time when Kakashi got fucking wasted in this exact seat and made a sloppy pass at Anko, before falling off his chair and somehow fracturing his wrist in two places. He has a thankfully hazy impression of maintaining solemn eye contact with Anko while licking a snake. Hopefully it’s a false memory. He’s never asked. He’d been seventeen and dead-set on escaping his demons (something of a pattern), and he’s deeply grateful that Ayako has never spoken aloud of That Night.

 _Her_ memory of it is clear in the deeply unimpressed look she gives him, however. “Don’t be a shithead, Kakashi- _kun_.” She says, but contrary to her words she sets down another cup of something potent in front of him before moving away to deal with a customer at the other end of the bar. Ayako’s bar is popular not just because the location is easily defensible and the drinks are good, but also because she truly is a genius bartender. Somehow, she always knows exactly what people need.

Upon reflection, Ayako has always had to deal with Kakashi in particularly difficult moments, since he ordinarily doesn’t drink. Kakashi has seen her throw journin three times her size out on their asses and once—one beautiful night—watched her make Inoichi cry, but she’s never been anything but annoyed and long-suffering with him. If Sarutobi despairs of Kakashi when he’s sober, Ayako must actually have the patience of a saint for him. He beams at her back. “Thanks, Ayako-chan!”

She turns to give him a truly impressive glare.

It’s a pity she left the field. He thinks he would have enjoyed working with her when she was in her prime.

Kakashi turns his attention downward to somewhat muzzily regard his cup. He takes a sip, lets the complex flavor—a little floral, a little ozone, kind of grassy—sit on his tongue and hums in pleasure to himself. This was a good idea. Next to him, Genma and Aoba shift back into their earlier conversation, some kind of absent-minded bitching about the new policies capping A-rank mission rates. Genma has just gotten back from a mission—Kakashi smelled the unforgettable mineral tang of dry salt and heat from Sand Country when he sat down. He’s already totally decompressed from the mission, his posture easy and relaxed again as he shoots the shit with Aoba. He’d been a little wary when Kakashi sat next to him, an almost imperceptible stillness and a little tilt of his spine away from Kakashi until he’d settled in.

Genma’s always been hard for Kakashi to read, for some reason, but he has an easy-going cheer and a macabre humor that Kakashi’s always liked. Genma is so unflappable that he survived being Gai’s genin teammate, and moreover seems to genuinely like the guy. (Heh. Pun.) More importantly, Gai seems to like him, which is more surprising than one might think. Gai has high standards for others and higher standards for himself; he deals poorly with deceitfulness or insincerity. His training schedule is also so insane that he barely has time for socializing with others, and Kakashi trusts that the close friends that Gai does have are Good People. (Gai’s good regard is also the reason that Kakashi looked past Ebisu’s mind-numbing boringness and to his delighted surprise found a fellow Icha Icha fan.)

On the mission they ran together several years back, Genma had been brutally competent and focused. Professional. Kakashi always appreciates that. Since leaving ANBU he’s worked mostly solo missions, and for good reason. Most other nin can barely keep up with him. But he wouldn’t mind doing more missions with Genma. The tokubetsu journin's grace and precision with his senbon had been hard to look away from, matched very well with the grins that flickered across his face and then disappeared in fights. Kakashi remembers that he liked those grins, sharp and a little wild. Little snapshots of the hard-eyed killer that somehow fit perfectly with his easygoing humor, his ever-present calm, his gentle kindness. Minato-sensei’s eyes were blue, and Genma’s are a light brown, but something about Genma’s eyes reminds him of the Yondaime, a brilliant shinobi and a better man. Genma has a very fundamental sort of humanity that allows him to be equally at ease in the market at Konoha and on an assassination mission in Wave.

(Wave. Of all places. Kakashi had been a little distracted on that mission, an unknown tension under his skin, a little fidgety, but it hadn’t mattered too much and Genma hadn’t ever mentioned it.)

Kakashi is self-aware enough to know that there’s a balance in life he’s never been able to achieve. Either closed down and focused enough to be a perfect killer, or human enough to be vulnerable, broken open under his personal failures, wracked and wrecked by the sins of his past. He’s never been able to reach that easy camaraderie with his peers which Genma seems to share with everyone. Instead of Genma’s sincere humanness, Kakashi’s had to make do with forming a pastiche of an identity separate from the warrior and the wretch. It’s a carefully wrought persona: the absent-minded layabout with an eccentric love of softcore porn. And while it may be true to himself, the quirks that he’d consciously adopted grown into comforting habit, the edges run jagged against the core of his heart. They’re a poorly applied mask, a superficial balm to assuage others that he’s weird but basically fine. It's not very convincing, he knows. There's a barely tamed darkness in him that makes even hardened shinobi hesitate, the wariness of civilized men when the wolves are hunting nearby.

Put a blade in his hand and he’s at ease, fully competent and assured. But put him in society, ask him to interact with others, ask him to _teach_ , dear God, and he’s a mess. Almost everyone steps carefully around Sharingan Kakashi, wary of his ill-concealed inhumanity.

Oh, Genma is fucked up like all shinobi are, like anyone who has to constantly balance the tension of being human and being a killer must be. But the disparate bits of him are fundamentally in sync, the core of him is solid, expressed in his calm self-assurance and general ease.

Without a mission, Kakashi can barely function. He’s planning to read porn in front of impressionable genin tomorrow, like that’s a socially acceptable thing to do. Today, he spent twelve hours talking to a rock. He’s so fucked.

He’s also so drunk. Shit.

**

Kakashi has been aware of the bar slowly filling up around him while he was lost in his thoughts. It’s very warm with the press of so many bodies, he notices suddenly. Ayako, goddess that she is, has kept his cup full even as she deals with new customers, and he has no idea how much he’s drank.

That. Is that concerning? He’ll worry about it later.

Aoba left at some point, and his seat has been taken by Ibiki. Ibiki’s great. He and Genma seem to be taking turns trying to scandalize Ayako with heavily redacted stories from T&I, and are so far failing. The noise level, which would be unbearable if he was sober, is a pleasant cushion to his thoughts. There’s a soft veil between him and the world. It’s great.

An uncertain period of time later, Ayako raps the counter in front of Kakashi with her knuckles. “Last call, boys. Not you, Kakashi-kun.” Kakashi rouses himself from a half-formed alcoholic daydream and tries to assume a hurt expression, but thinks he doesn’t quite manage it. He glances down at his cup a little sadly, just for show, but honestly, he hasn’t been drinking from it for a while. Ayako could be giving him kage-killer for all he knows, he stopped tasting the alcohol about three drinks back. He’s pleasantly hazy. The cup’s still three-quarters full and if he finishes it he thinks he’s probably going to puke it right back up. Kakashi’s kind of traumatized and emotionally crippled, but he’s not suicidal.

“No thanks, Ayako-san.” Genma says politely, echoing Kakashi’s thoughts. Then there’s a hand on Kakashi’s arm. It takes a moment for him to trace it back to its owner. “Up we get, Kakashi.” Genma says gently, in the voice you use to address the very, very drunk. He gives a little tug and Kakashi obligingly slides off his chair. “Promised Ayako I’d see you home safe. God knows you look like you need a little help.”

Kakashi doesn’t like the sympathy in his tone and is about to say so, but the floor is very uneven and it takes him a moment to find his footing. He tips over a little bit, listing sideways into the other man until he finds his balance. Oof. Solid. Solid and warm. Genma still smells of rocks and desert heat but the scents of Sand are overlaid by sweet potato shochu. He took the time to shower between getting back and going to the bar. Genma smells like the ANBU locker room soap and something else, kind of intriguing, an alkaline, peppery whiff of fresh poisons and mint and something else that Kakashi thinks might just be Genma. He inhales unconsciously, trying to get a better sense of that faint something, and then realizes with somewhat distant embarrassment that he is just standing there and sniffing someone.

“Whoops,” Kakashi says innocently, straightening up and swaying a little. Genma laughs quietly and keeps a preemptory hand on his elbow as he steers him out the door. Away from that lovely Lightning sake, aw man.

Ayako is so nice to him. Kakashi tries to instruct his brain to remember to ask her for the name of that sake the next time he sees her, but he suspects it may be a failing endeavor. “Bye, Ayako-chan!” Kakashi carols brightly, and flails out of the way of a thrown bottle. It hits the doorway, shattering.

“Drink lots of water, you little shit.” Ayako yells at him. So nice. She’s so caring.

Genma very kindly tugs Kakashi away from the broken glass. They get about as far as the alleyway next to the bar before Kakashi stubs his toe and stops. “Wait. Wait. Give me a minute.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Thanks.” He closes his eyes a moment to make the world stop swaying.

Outside of the bar, the night air is brisk, and the alcohol in his system makes Kakashi shiver. The cold air is helping him to sober up a little bit though, and he shakes himself to clear some of the fuzziness away. He takes in a deep breath, feels the night in his lungs with a happy sigh. Konoha is beautiful at night. The stars above are a little blurry, but they, too, are very beautiful.

When he looks back around to say this out loud, Genma is staring at him with surprising fondness and not a little amusement. His hand is still warm on Kakashi’s arm. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this wasted.” He says softly, but he’s smiling. “Aoba’s going to be so pissed that he missed this. The great Sharingan Kakashi, just totally plastered.”

“Oi.” Kakashi says sternly, trying for a glare. It might not work, judging from the way Genma’s smile gets bigger. “This is Aoba’s fault.” He says instead.

He suddenly realizes that there’s a breeze across his cheeks, and raises one hand unconsciously to touch his mouth. His face mask is pulled down. He forgets when that happened. He forgets when…it’s been a while since he was outside without a mask. He smacks his lips absently, dropping his hand back down. Now he knows why all the smells around him are so clear, even as his other senses are a little fuzzy.

“You want your mask up?” Genma asks, reaching out.

“No, no, no.” Kakashi shakes his head definitively, but then stops when the motion makes him a little nauseous. He puts his hand out to bat away Genma and ends up catching his wrist instead, still holding on as he brings his hand back down. Genma laughs a little and tries to pull back, but Kakashi doesn’t let go. He closes his eyes and inhales again to steady himself. Pepper and mint, yeah. Something woody. And familiar. Oops. Bad idea.

Kakashi gently shakes his head again. That’s better. Not quite as dizzy. That’s good. The heat of Genma’s hand on his arm and his wrist in Kakashi’s other hand is. Grounding.

  
He’s not sure how long they’ve been standing in this alleyway and holding hands, but it’s probably been a little too long. He shakes Genma’s hand a little. “You uh…you gonna walk me home?” He asks intelligently.

Genma’s a little shorter than him; most people are. He’s broader, though. His hair is limned in the light from the bar, little streaks of golden in the brown. There are flecks of green and gold in his eyes. No blue. Should there be blue? He’s got a faint scar at the edge of his cheek. Is Kakashi staring? He might be staring. Unthinking, he sways forward a little.

“I would, yeah.” Genma says, still in that gentle, amused voice. He tenses, holding Kakashi back at a little less than arm’s length. “I don’t know where you live, though.”

“Oh.” Kakashi also isn’t sure where he lives right now. Sarutobi made him move out of the ANBU barracks. “Hmm.” He pulls his arm out of Genma’s grasp, but keeps hold of his other hand. He uses the leverage to shift forward into Genma’s warmth, twisting himself to fit against the other man’s side before he lets go. Genma’s arm comes automatically around his waist to steady his weight, even as he stiffens at the encroachment on his personal space.

Kakashi smiles a little sideways. “Take me to yours?” He asks playfully. His memory tells him that Genma prefers men, although he’s not quite sure it’s very reliable. It’s been a while, though. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Genma tenses. “Kakashi, you’re drunk.” He says flatly. It’s not a no, though.

“Am not.” Kakashi says automatically. He amends his statement, a little ashamed at such a bald-faced lie. “Am too, but I’m quite capable of making my own decisions.”

Capable even has three syllables. So.

He tilts his head a little to better regard Genma. Who is handsome, now that Kakashi’s been looking at him. His features are pretty unremarkable at first glance, but there’s a subtle beauty there, hidden in the details. Underneath the underneath, Kakashi thinks happily.

“Please?” He asks winsomely. He’d been teasing, a little, but this is starting to seem like a great idea. Kakashi dips his head to peck a little kiss next to Genma’s ear and asks again. “Please?”

“Oh, my fucking god.” Still not a no. But Genma’s iron-tense next to him still, the hand at his waist barely putting any pressure on him. So Kakashi shifts his weight away a little. No pressure. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Genma’s hand clenches reflexively as Kakashi moves away, and he pauses.

“Oh, my fucking god.” Genma repeats, sounding a little confused, a little horrified. A little something else, too. Can’t quite place it. “Okay, okay. Please don’t hate me.” He mutters finally, relaxing his grip.

“Won’t.” Kakashi assures him happily and cuddles back in next to his warmth. A part of his brain is confused at Genma's reaction, but he severely tells that part of his brain to save it for later. He says a little impishly, “Fucking sounds great, though, come on, let’s go.”

Genma freezes again. This is going to be kind of annoying if he keeps freezing like that, Kakashi thinks. Probably not a dealbreaker though.

But then. “Fuck.” Genma breathes, and then suddenly he’s turning and pressing Kakashi up against the wall, kissing Kakashi. Kakashi’s a little slow to respond, kind of surprised that the shitty pun worked and he didn’t get decked, but he reacts quickly enough, sliding one hand behind Genma’s head and pushing back into the kiss with a happy hum. He finally gets a taste of that sweet potato shochu, and it’s delicious. He chases the flavor, licking into Genma’s mouth.

Genma pulls back too early and laughs, quiet and a little wild. He shushes Kakashi’s annoyed grumbles with a kiss to his nose and laughs again. “Okay, okay.”

“Yay.” Kakashi says, kind of ridiculous but happy that Genma’s finally gotten with the program.

Genma’s hand slips to his lower back, a steadying weight as he turns them out of the alley and they start walking. Kakashi has sobered enough that walking probably isn’t a problem anymore, but he doesn’t move away, happy to take advantage of the excuse.

…How far away is Genma’s apartment? Kakashi wants another kiss. He presses his lips to the side of Genma’s mouth, and then to the scar he noticed earlier. Genma laughs a little at him, but he doesn’t pull away anymore, so Kakashi tilts his head and licks a stripe along his neck. He’s delighted by the way Genma’s breath catches in his throat. Yeah. This is going to be fun.

**

Kakashi loses his flak vest in the entryway to the apartment, and then shirt and pants disappear somewhere in Genma’s living room. They don’t bother with turning the lights on. His hitai-ate keeps slipping when Genma twines long fingers in his hair, so he takes that off too at the door to the bedroom. When he drops it on the floor and looks back up with both eyes, Genma’s looking back at him. The room’s dim, but there’s enough light coming in from the street to see everything clearly.

There’s an odd moment, and Kakashi shifts a little, abruptly kind of self-conscious. Kakashi was short and skinny as a kid, and then he was tall and rangy once he grew up. He’s overcome his natural shortcomings by relying on skill and hard training, and he’s confident in his body and its abilities, but there’s no denying that he’s still a skinny scarecrow of a bastard when all’s said and done. He knows that without the mask he looks about ten years younger. And the Sharingan—apart from being terrifying—is also, as he has been told by other partners, a freaky-looking thing, monstrous in its contrast with his pale skin and hair. The scar from when he got the eye is old but brutal, testament to his past traumas. Shirtless, unmasked, with his hitai-ate off, he suddenly worries that once Genma sees what he’s offering he might change his mind. It’s kind of a miracle they even got this far, when Genma was so hard to convince back at the bar.

But Genma only smiles at him and gestures at his neck. “Mask off?” He asks quietly. Kakashi hesitates a moment longer but obeys, tugging the fabric over his head and dropping it on top of his hitai-ate.

“You’re wearing too many clothes.” He says, to cover his awkwardness. When Genma just tilts his head and grins in response, Kakashi obligingly steps forward to crowd him against the bed, hands slipping helpfully under his shirt and sliding along smooth skin. Genma hisses gratifyingly at the touch and leans in for a kiss. This time, it’s Kakashi who breaks away, tugging at Genma’s shirt with feigned petulance. “Off, off.” He mutters, and Genma laughs and complies. He’s gorgeous, just like Kakashi thought, golden tanned skin with intriguing scars all over that are a wordless proof of his deadly competence. Genma's laugh chokes off into a hiccup when Kakashi lets his hands wander, brushes his knuckles accidentally on purpose a couple times over the growing hardness in Genma’s pants as he fiddles with his belt buckle. Kakashi grins, glancing up through his lashes as he gets the buckle undone and drops Genma’s pants.

“You’re awful.” Genma protests, breathless, and Kakashi beams. He keeps one hand pressed over Genma’s cock, slides the other one along Genma’s hip, dipping his fingers below the waistband of Genma’s underwear as he pauses to check in. Last chance to say no.

Genma slides a shaking hand through Kakashi’s hair and tightens his grip, tugging a little. He meets Kakashi’s eye—both eyes, and smiles at him. Kakashi eyes him back a moment, then closes his eyes and tips his head. He presses into Genma's hand with something that sounds a lot like a purr as Genma plays with the white strands. They stand like that a moment, easy in the silence.

Then Kakashi presses down with one hand, grinning at Genma’s abrupt wheeze. “I wasn’t kidding about the fucking part.” Kakashi says conversationally, tugging down Genma’s underwear and leaning in for a fumbling kiss as Genma kicks the rest of his clothes off. Now Kakashi’s the one clothed, albeit in only his underwear.

“God..what?” Genma sounds delightfully bewildered.

“Sake dick’s a thing. Hope you don’t mind fucking me until I can get it up.” He says brightly, grinning when Genma splutters. Is that a blush? Amazing.

Kakashi pushes the other man down on the bed and kicks off the last of his clothes before straddling him. “Sound okay?” He scrapes his nails curiously over Genma's chest.

“God.” Genma grits out, closing his eyes. When he opens them again, his pupils are blown wide, and he’s staring up at Kakashi with a look that’s completely overwhelmed. Kakashi rocks forward playfully and laughs as Genma jerks under him.

Why haven’t they fucked before now? Genma’s gorgeous, and funny, and so beautifully responsive. Kakashi leans forward. “Sound okay?” He repeats, smiling.

Genma groans, laughing, and then twists his hips and flips them. He looks a little desperate for a moment, before visibly getting himself back under control. “Are you joking.” He says, peppering kisses along Kakashi’s cheekbones. “Fuck…you’re so gorgeous. Kakashi. Shit. How could I mind? Oh, my fucking god.” Kakashi giggles at the nonsensical words, reaching up to pull him down. 

"Great.” He mumbles against his lips, even as Genma dissolves into giggles too. That seems to do the trick somehow, because then Genma gets a lot more proactive, kissing him long and hungry before reaching over the side of the mattress. Kakashi hums his happy approval when Genma comes back with a bottle of lube. He sighs a little when Genma palms his half-hard cock. He shifts into a more comfortable position and spreads his legs in invitation, cocking an eyebrow when Genma glances up at his face.

“Maybe before I fall asleep.” Kakashi suggests politely when Genma doesn’t move, seemingly content to just sit for a moment and look at him. Despite his words, most of the alcohol’s wearing off by this point, and he wriggles impatiently when Genma narrows his eyes.

There’s a growing heat in his belly, and he’s just tipsy enough to be a little shameless. Maintaining eye contact even as he starts to flush a little, he cocks an eyebrow and moves a hand down his own body, pausing a moment to make sure he has Genma’s full attention before he starts to finger himself open. It’s been a while, and two fingers dry is a painful stretch, but it’s worth it for the sound Genma makes, the way his cock visibly twitches at the sight. The angle’s a little awkward, and Kakashi's happy when Genma growls and knocks his hand away. Genma pours out some lube into his hand, letting it warm up for a moment before sliding his own finger into Kakashi’s ass.

This part’s always a little uncomfortable, but Kakashi lets himself close his eyes and ride it out, trying to relax his body against the intrusion. He knows it’ll be good once he gets used to the feeling again, and he reminds himself of this, tries not to be too impatient or look too bored.

But then Genma leans down and takes Kakashi’s still half-hard cock into his mouth even as he adds another finger, and Kakashi’s back arches without his permission, sparks flickering up his spine. He goes from half-hard to fully aroused in an instant and bites down belatedly on a squeak. Genma hums around his cock, amused, and pulls off to give the head a slow lick and grin at Kakashi. His fingers brush over that spot— _shit_ ¸ _right_ there—and his grin gets even wider when Kakashi gives a full body twitch, rubbing lightly over his prostrate as Kakashi shakes and gasps.

“Hey,” Genma says calmly, and Kakashi has to take a moment to focus on his words. Why is he talking? Why has he stopped moving his fingers? “Looks like I didn’t even have to fuck you.”

It takes a moment to make sense of the words, but when he does Kakashi pins Genma with an unamused stare, too horny now to kid. “Don’t you fucking dare stop.” He snarls, and it comes out in a rush as Genma dips his head down again.

Glorious heat and suction and Kakashi’s brain whites out a little as Genma starts to move his fingers again. Three, now? Oh, God.

He shifts restlessly against the bed, so turned on it hurts, more than ready. “Please.” Kakashi hisses, when Genma seems once again content to take it slow, does nothing more than continue to suck languidly on Kakashi’s dick and shift his fingers, every movement sending white lights dancing behind Kakashi’s eyelids.

“You sure? You’re still pretty tight.” Genma observes dubiously, sitting back and eyeing him.

“It’s been a while.” Kakashi snaps, twisting down to get more, deeper. “I can take it. Fucking. Please.”

“Mmm.” Genma hums doubtfully, still moving his fingers. It’s really, really, not enough. “You’re not really known for being good about observing your own limits, you know.” He drawls.

“If you don’t stop teasing me, I’m going to make you regret it-ah!” The threat loses a lot of its believability when he has to pause in the middle of the sentence to breathe harshly when Genma idly blows cool air across his aching cock, and then at the end to sob when Genma crooks his fingers. His dick is so hard he’s a little dizzy with it. He’s almost turned on too much to be embarrassed by the little mewl he makes when Genma finally pulls his fingers out, his ass clenching automatically on the sudden emptiness.

“ _Fuck_ me.” Kakashi orders him, wrapping his legs around Genma's waist and glaring. 

Genma pauses over him while spreading lube on his cock and lining it up.

“You’re beautiful.” He says out of nowhere, blunt and sincere.

Kakashi stills in surprise. “Thanks.” He manages, and steadies his breathing as Genma smiles, small and lovely. Intimate. His eyes are soft as he regards Kakashi.

Kakashi tries again, breaking the odd moment. “ _Please_ fuck me?” He says, a little mock-whiny and joking.

There’s an infinite pause while Genma just keeps looking at him, oddly solemn. Funnily enough though, Kakashi finds he doesn’t mind, the desperation of the last few minutes (honestly, years) quieting down to a warm moment of stillness. Gentle contentment.

“Yeah.” Genma says finally, and grins. Kakashi has just a moment to think, _Shit, finally,_ and Genma’s pushing into him, knocking the air out of his lungs.

It still hurts a little, even after the frankly excessive preparation, and Kakashi takes a slow breath, lets it out on a groan as Genma gives a few experimental thrusts. The stretch is intense, a burning heat. Kakashi can’t figure out if it’s good or bad. “Turn over?” Genma asks quietly after he bottoms out, and Kakashi nods, a little shivery.

It’s even better on his hands and knees, especially when Genma finds an angle that presses against his prostrate with every long stroke. Kakashi feels heat building in his groin and reaches down for his cock, but Genma grabs his hand before he can touch himself. He guides Kakashi’s hand back to the mattress and holds him down instead, pressing his weight along the full length of Kakashi’s back. “Don’t. Please?” He asks bizarrely, but Kakashi nods anyways.

In this moment, he would probably agree to anything Genma asked.

He hangs his head and shifts his knees a little wider to give Genma more room. There’s a soft kiss on the back of his neck, another one dropped high up on his spine. Genma's lips are bright-hot on his overstimulated skin and Kakashi shudders. Genma presses a little harder against him and falls into a steady pace, his thrusts a little shallower but still strong, rocking Kakashi forward. His untouched cock is leaking a steady stream of precome on the bed. He feels a little muzzy, a little overwhelmed. The sheets are cool under his forehead. His nose is filled with the scent of pepper and mint. And laurel? He doesn't know how long they’ve been fucking. He feels drunk.

And then Genma is bending down, murmuring in his ear, “Next round, you can fuck me, okay?” and suddenly Kakashi is coming in a rush at the thought of golden skin and soft brown eyes desperate under him, startled and choking back a yelp at the burst of arousal that goes through his system even as he’s in mid-orgasm.  _Fuck._

Genma laughs like the bastard he is and sets his hands around Kakashi’s waist, pulls him back onto his lap. He keeps fucking him through the aftershocks, until Kakashi stops choking on laughter and cut-off swears, breathless. Every thrust makes him shake again. He tips his head back on Genma’s shoulder and moans, over-sensitized. Genma’s hands tighten to bruising on his hips and his rhythm becomes erratic. “Kakashi, can I?” He murmurs, and Kakashi’s nodding, saying nonsensically,

“Sure, yes. Yeah. Come in me.” Genma lets out a low, almost pained-sounding exhale and presses in deep, grunts as he thrusts forward a few more times and then stills.

By mutual agreement, they both fall onto the bed after Genma pulls out, and Kakashi grumbles meaninglessly and presses in close to Genma until the other man throws an arm across his back.

They’re both a little shaky, laughing.

Slowly, they calm down, and a comfortable silence settles in the room. Genma tugs Kakashi a little closer, and Kakashi goes willingly, worming his shoulder under Genma’s body until Genma laughs and turns onto his side, both arms around Kakashi. A contented pause.

And then, thoughtfully. A little disbelieving. “Are you a fucking cuddler, Kakashi?”

Kakashi gives him a sleepy glare out of his normal eye. He’s not quite at the right angle to make it work. “Go fuck yourself, Shiranui.” He says instead, but it comes out too lazy to work properly.

Genma muffles a laugh into his back. “Maybe later.” He laughs again when Kakashi gives a reflexive full body twitch, exhausted but still unbelievably turned on by the thought. God. Kakashi’s too sated and comfortable to really mind the teasing. Plus, it’s not like he isn’t amenable to the idea.

“Okay.”


End file.
